Title: Drip Drip Drip pt. A (Number 9 in the Even Death series)

Author: Goldy

Disclaimer: *yawn* Believe me when I say they’re much better left in my hands!

Summary: Stuff. And other stuff. OH! And a plot! Imagine that!

Rating: PG

Feedback: YES! Give me! It’s been so long since I’ve had any feedback on this series!

Dedication: Jennem because she found time to fit me in even though she has so many exams to study for! And because I just love her so much!

She gasps, fighting for breath. Everything is blurred. She claws viciously trying to find her way out. Pain is felt, and she keeps pushing… she must get out.

Where is she?

Clawing, she keeps going… breathing… it hurts.

Fire, everywhere. Loud noises… not there, not here… where?

Trying to get out. Can’t breathe. Can’t talk. Can’t scream.

Where is she?

Everything is too bright… too loud… too much.

Still she claws, a little harder, a little more forceful. The pain is deeper, but she keeps scratching. She can’t think. She can only claw… she has to get out.

She doesn’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why is it hurting? Why can’t she see? Why can’t she get out?

She claws. The fire dims. She can’t even think. Her breathing is harder… raspier… more labored. She claws.

The fire.

Burning.

Clawing.

Breathing.

Can’t get out.

Her friends. Why?

“Buffy?”

Where is she?

“Buffy!!!”

Can’t get out.

“BUFFY!!!”

With a shocked gasp, she opens her eyes. For a moment she can’t remember where she is. All she can see is darkness… blackness… hurt… confusion.

A cool hand touches her cheek, lightly, but with obvious concern. She relaxes. It’s okay. She isn’t inside her grave… she’s here. With him.

“I’m okay,” she whispers.

Angel’s face hovers over hers, worry etched in his eyes. “You were dreaming again,” he says softly.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she tries to wash away the last bit of the nightmare. This isn’t hell. This is life. Turning, she curls up against him. He holds her close, but not too close, gently rubbing her back and whispering words of comfort in her ear.

Soon she sleeps again.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He watches. He watches her chest lift and fall to a steady rhythm. He makes sure that the dreams don’t come to her, so that she can sleep peacefully.

And he tries not to think about his own dream.

But soon the images come back. And he nods off. And he dreams again.

***

He walks along a field. The day is bright and the sun is high in the air. The fact that he isn’t burning doesn’t cross his mind; perhaps it isn’t even a possibility. All that matters is that the field stretches out before him, long and wide, and he has to cross it.

People he knows walk along the field. They come up to him, some talk, but he can’t hear them. His father is there. Stern and tall, looking as disappointed with him as ever. Jenny Calendar walks by, and the pain and guilt rips through him. But she walks on, she doesn’t notice him. *She’s* there, too. He knows it. But he can’t find her. He doesn’t even know if he’s supposed to be looking for her.

Drip

The field stops. He is in the woods. A chair that stretches up to the sky is the only thing standing in front of him. Darla sits in the chair, looking as calm as ever. Nothing about her has changed, but for one minor detail. And he knows, that detail… that detail makes everything different.

“You’re pregnant,” he mutters, flabbergasted.

She looks down at her round stomach like she hadn’t noticed him before. Giving him a bored look she examines her nails. “Yeah. So?”

“You’re a vampire!” he exclaims.

She squints. “So are you.”

“What kind of an answer is that?” he snaps. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to have to talk to his sire.

Darla smiles sweetly. “It wasn’t an answer.”

He sighs in annoyance.

Drip

Shaking his head, he glances around. The forest stretches out before him. “I don’t know how to find her. Every day she keeps getting farther way from me.”

Darla presses a hand to her belly. “Gee, isn’t that sweet.”

“Is the baby mine?” he asks, afraid of the answer.

She shrugs. “Perhaps. In another place and time. She’s even farther away from you there. Here, now, it doesn’t matter.”

Drip

Feeling her presence sharply, he turns. Nothing but the rustle of trees greets him. “I can still save her, right?” he questions.

“Darling,” Darla says with mild disgust. “That depends on you.”

“On me? I don’t understand!”

She sighs. “Angelus. It’s your precious slayer.” She sneers at him, “If there’s a way, you’ll find it.” Stepping gingerly out of her chair, she walks into the forest.

Drip

Drip

“Wait!” he yells, even as she gets farther away from him.

She turns.

“What about the baby?”

Laughing, she patted her stomach. “It doesn’t matter. It represents what could be, and what isn’t.”

“What could be? What could be what?” he calls frantically, even as she gets further away.

“Angelus. I taught you better. Just be there. Be there when it comes.”

He watches as the chair she sat on vanishes, and she begins to fade. “How will I know when it comes?”

The slight screaming of a baby is his only response.

Drip

***

The noise pounded in his head, like an incessant drum. Eyes snapping open, Angel drew in a deep calming breath. Buffy lay curled at his side. He listened for a minute to her steady breathing, finally relaxing when he realized that she wasn’t dreaming. Gently so as not to wake her, he moved her over and got up.

Drip

Following the noise, he ended up in the bathroom. The tap was letting out water that dripped and hit the metal of the sink at a constant pace. Shaking his head, he turned it off, sighing in relief when the noise was gone.

Making his way back to the bedroom, he paused in the doorway. She was still sleeping, and he was glad to see it. The nightmares came more frequently, and it scared him. She would scream and call out in her sleep saying that the fire was burning, and she couldn’t get out.

Sometimes minutes… just minutes that felt like hours were needed to pull her from that sleep.

His own dream came filtering back to him. Darla? Pregnant? What did it all mean? He knew that Buffy had been having worse nightmares, but getting farther away from him?

What did it mean?

Buffy turned over, and let out a low moan. A slow smile spread across Angel’s lips when he realized that she was softly whispering his name.

She was dreaming good dreams then.

A sharp movement to his left had Angel springing around. He relaxed when he saw Dawn watching him with frightened eyes. “What are you doing up?” he asked softly.

Dawn gestured towards the bathroom. “Stupid tap.”

Angel shrugged apologetically. “No kidding.”

Yawning, the slayer’s sister grimaced. “Probably Buffy who left it on.” Dawn glanced at her sleeping sister and scowled. “And it doesn’t even wake her up! How is that fair?”

“She needs her sleep,” Angel said. “Buffy… she… she doesn’t always get a lot of it.”

Dawn looked at him with suspicion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Angel threw up his hands. “We’re being careful, Dawn.”

She squinted her eyes, not sure if she believed him. “You’re sharing the same bedroom.”

“We’re being careful,” he repeated.

“Okay,” Dawn muttered, but she still didn’t seem convinced.

Angel sniffed the air, and then stepped into the room to look behind the curtain, being careful not to wake Buffy. Dawn coughed, and Angel turned to glare at her. “Buffy’s trying to sleep!” he hissed.

She rolled her eyes. “Please. Nothing wakes her up when she’s sleeping deeply.”

Angel didn’t say anything, but looked behind the curtain again.

Coming up behind him suddenly, Angel jumped to find the teenager looking over his shoulder. “Whatya doin’?” she asked.

“Seeing what time it is,” he answered, with no small amount of annoyance.

Dawn took one glance at the yellow and orange that were beginning to peek its way along the Los Angeles skyline before making a sound of disgust. “Why don’t you just look at a watch?”

“Maybe because I don’t have one.” Angel offered shortly.

Dawn held her bright pink sports watch up into his face. “It’s five thirty.”

Sighing, Angel replaced the curtain. “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Great! Buffy *always* burns whatever she tries to cook.” Dawn bounced out of the room.

Angel felt a wash of fondness watching her. Shaking his head, he pressed a quick kiss to Buffy’s forehead before following her.

***

This time she was running. She was running… and yet, they still caught up to her. She would fight them, she would always fight them, but they kept coming.

She could never win.

But she fought. She didn’t know what else to do. Things were black

but too bright. The breeze was cool, but the fire burned.

She wanted it to burn.

Buffy awoke lined in a thin sheet of sweat. Leaning back against the pillows, she let out a series of deep breaths. It’s only a dream. Only a dream, only a dream, only a dream, only a dream…

Her heart pounded, but her breathing returned to normal. She looked at the place where Angel usually lay. He wasn’t there. She knew that it was much too late for him to still be asleep, but she needed him. She needed him to calm her.

For a moment she wondered why he wasn’t there; why he didn’t know to be there to comfort her.

The moment passed, and Buffy realized that she was being selfish. Getting a hold on herself, she climbed out of bed and began the morning ritual of making herself presentable.

Checking the mirror first, as she did every morning, she was glad to note that she looked better. The sad girl whose face had been filled with despair and unhappiness had long since been replaced. Her cheeks were pinker, and her body was better nourished. The bags under her eyes, though… those were still there. And, she imagined they were going to remain there for a while.

Coming down the stairs to the lobby of the Hyperion, Buffy could hear hushed voices deep in conversation. Wesley kept asking Angel questions, and the rest of the gang hovered nearby. Pausing for a moment, she stayed and listened as best she could.

“Why was she pregnant?” Angel asked Wesley softly.

“Ewww,” Cordelia yelped loudly. “Of all things you could dream about….”Angel gave her a dark look, and she shrugged.

“But a vampire can’t… right?” Fred said. “I mean, they’re technically dead so…”

“Can’t very well reproduce.” Gunn finished, sharing a smile with Fred.

Angel nodded and looked at Wesley. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It could very well be something that your sub conscience interjected into the dream that had no meaning at all.” Wesley looked at Angel seriously. “Did anything happen with Darla last year that could have caused her to … appear in that state?”

Buffy sucked in a breath. Darla? Pregnant? What? Angel, hearing her gasp of surprise, glanced up sharply. “What’s going on?” she inquired, trying not to sound like she had been standing on the stairs watching them.

Angel have her an easy smile. “Wesley and I were just discussing a particular breed of demons. Nothing that you would be interested in.”

‘Liar,’ Buffy thought with an indignant flash of anger. “Really?” she purred feigning interest.

Angel gave Cordelia a quick pleading look. “Really,” she said quickly. “It’s pretty boring stuff, actually.”

“Yeah!” Fred jumped in, “I think it would be best if we left Wes, Gunn, and Angel to discuss it amongst themselves.”

“You know how men like all that blood and gore stuff,” Cordelia added with a wrinkle of her nose.

Buffy folded her arms over her chest and looked Angel straight in the eye. “It better not be something important,” she said slowly, “I’m the slayer. If there’s something I need to know then I should be told.”

Angel held her gaze. “If it was something I felt you should know, I’d tell you.”

‘Sure. Sure you would,’ Buffy thought angrily. “Good because I wouldn’t want you to keep something from me simply because you thought that it was for my own good.” Angel almost looked guilty, and Buffy felt a little better. Looking at Fred and Cordelia, she gestured to the entrance of the hotel. “Breakfast?”

“Sure,” Fred answered nervously. “What about Dawn?”

Buffy shrugged. “I’m sure that these guys can handle her.”

“We love Dawn!” Gunn cried, with too much enthusiasm.

Cordelia, Wesley and Angel exchanged a look. “Okay!” Queen C clapped her hands together. “Let’s get a move on, shall we?”

Buffy followed the two brunettes to the door, making sure to brush by Angel in annoyance on her way. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm and she turned around to face him.

“Hey,” he smiled pleasantly. “You never said good morning.”

Buffy felt herself turn into a puddle as he gazed at her. ‘Damn him!’ she fumed internally. “Morning,” she muttered.

Leaning forward he pecked her on the forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.

Buffy bristled. He was hiding something from her and was most definitely *not* going to get away with it “I’m a lovable person,” she snapped.

Angel looked hurt but accepted the blow. Letting her go, she turned away from him and couldn’t help but notice the embarrassed faces of the people who had just witnessed the little PDA.

“And Buffy?”

Buffy turned and faced him again. “What?”

“Work on your eavesdropping. I knew you were there the moment you set foot on the stairs.”

Glaring at him, Buffy turned and stalked out of the Hyperion. Angel watched her go with an amused smile on his lips.

“Man!” Gunn exclaimed. “You really know a good way of getting staked.”

“Yes,” Wesley agreed. “Do you really think that lying to her was the best thing to do?”

Angel kept his eyes on the door that she had just exited the building from. “It’s for her own good,” he said softly.

***

“Buffy! Wait up!” Fred shouted, even as the blonde stormed further away from her.

Cordelia lay a hand on her arm. “The girl is pissed.”

“Shouldn’t we go after her? We don’t want her to do anything stupid. Besides, she looks really unhappy…”

Cordelia snorted. “Please. That girl is like the queen of pain or something. She *always* makes things seem worse then they are. Like the world revolves around her.”

“But…” Fred protested meekly.

“Let her storm off. She’ll come back. Then her and Angel will make with the kissing and the disgusting googoo eyes.”

Fred watched as she disappeared from sight. “She’s going awfully fast.”

Cordelia held a hand over her forehead to block out the sun and squinted at Buffy’s furthering figure. “Go ahead and try and catch up if you’d like.”

“It might be kind of hard… what with the slayer speed and all.”

Cordelia snapped her fingers. “It’s all settled then. She’ll go and pout. We’ll go for pancakes.”

***

Lilah Morgan was a fan of cleanliness. She thought that if people wanted to take up her precious time, they might as well try and look presentable. Take nails for example. If a new lawyer dared to come to her and actually talk to her with bitten, sharp, dirty nails, she would dismiss them in a heartbeat.

Her job wasn’t always easy, but Lilah had learned that first impressions go a long way. She made sure that her own appearance was always flawless. Perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect clothes, and perfect nails.

It made her seem superior

And she was superior, of course.

Folding her arms over her chest, Lilah looked calmly at her newest visitor. He was wearing a suit that needed ironing, a bright pink tie, and brown running shoes. He was *not* presentable. Thus, she was the one with the power. “This better be good,” she muttered.

The visitor, a one hundred-year-old vampire that killed more lawyers than he could count, flinched under the intense gaze. Swallowing heavily, he didn’t do anything but shrug.

Lilah picked a manila folder off her desk and began rifling through the contents. “Buffy Anne Summers. 21 years old. Called as the slayer when she was 15. Last year she killed herself and saved the world. Recently, she was resurrected by her friends. Am I correct?”

The vampire nodded.

Lilah smiled and threw the folder down on her desk. Papers spewed out, and the vampire gave a little nervous jump. “What it is the Slayer doing in LA?”

“Well… uh… it appears that she’s living with the vampire… An--”

“What’s your name?” Lilah interrupted, giving the vampire a distasteful look.

“My name is, uh, Marcus, ma’am.”

Lilah leaned back in her chair and brushed a piece of her hair out of her face. She noticed with disgust that the vampire was in dire need of a haircut. “Marcus,” she began pleasantly, “why the *hell* is the slayer living with Angel?”

The vampire tugged nervously at his tie, which was starting to come undone. “They… he… apparently… you know.”

Lilah slammed her fist down on the desk. The vampire whimpered. “No, Marcus, I don’t know,” she hissed. “I’ve been doing nothing but watching this fucking vampire for the past three years.” Taking a deep breath, she looked at Marcus, calm and collected once more. “Now,” she smiled, “be a good little vampire and tell the nice lawyer why the Slayer is living with Angelus.”

“I don’t know all the details….” Off Lilah’s glare, the vampire rushed to continue. “But… I’ve been around a while. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that Angel was once involved with a slayer.” Marcus snorted. “It was disgusting! Pawing over her… like a whipped puppy dog.”

Lilah cleared her throat. “I don’t care how Angel acted around her. What is the Slayer doing in *my* town?”

“I don’t actually know why the slayer is here,” Marcus fumbled nervously.

“Oh,” Lilah leaned back and examined her nails. “Then why are you still standing here?”

Marcus choked. “He fell in love with her!” he said quickly.

Lilah raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Interesting.”

Glad that he had her attention, the vampire grinned. “So they have this whole forbidden love thing going on. Until, one day, he leaves. Just like that. And she moves on.” Marcus whistled. “The next guy was almost as bad as Angelus himself. Part of some high-class army group. You did *not* want to mess with him.”

“So that’s it. He breaks up with her, and comes here.” Lilah stood up and chewed her lip thoughtfully. “There has to be more to it than that. Doesn’t really sound like love to me.”

The vampire shrugged. “Look, I told you what you wanted to hear… can I go now?”

“Why did he leave her?”

“I don’t know. It was about a year after he went evil… man, those were some good times!”

Lilah looked up. “When Angel went evil?” She thought for a moment. “The only way to break the curse is true happiness…”

The vampire glanced up suddenly. “Oh, yeah. I remember now. She broke the clause or something. I don’t know, Angelus didn’t really like to talk about the whole thing.”

Lilah wasn’t listening to him anymore. No, she wasn’t at all. She was staring intently at a picture of Buffy that had fallen on the floor. It was her junior High School picture. A slow smile spread across Lilah’s perfectly painted lips. “So you’re the one,” she purred. “Lindsey couldn’t do it, Darla couldn’t do it, but… you. The love of his life. The slayer. You’re the only one that can turn him evil.”

Lilah laughed. The irony was just… delicious.

***

Buffy was upset. She didn’t like being lied to. She didn’t like it when Angel kept things from her. And she especially didn’t like it when he patronized her like she was a little girl.

She was the slayer, after all.

The slayer, who was sitting all alone in the downtown area of Los Angeles. People milled around her, chatting happily. Lovers walked by, hand in hand, like they were the only ones in the entire world.

No one noticed her. No one bothered giving her a second glance.

She was utterly, and totally alone. In a city with a population of 6 million.

But, of course, that was why she had come here. To be alone. To get away from the people that knew her. Shivering, Buffy hugged her arms around her. It was a warm day, and she felt cold. Like she was missing part of something.

Like she was missing Angel.

She sighed. ‘No… no, you’re not going there.’ she amended quickly. He *lied* to her. He lied even when he knew she knew he was lying.

He lied.

And Buffy sat alone.

***

The vampire was humming some tune under his breath. Lilah let out a sigh of annoyance and pressed a red button on her desk.

Three men dressed in black and well over 6 feet tall waltzed into her office. She gestured to Marcus. “I have a problem here. Let’s take care of it people.”

Marcus looked betrayed. “Hey! You said that if I told you what you needed to know then I could have…” He never finished his sentence as he exploded into a cloud of dust.

Lilah didn’t even flinch. Instead, she began to rifle through the file labeled, ‘Buffy Summers.’ “Okay, big love,” she muttered under her breath, “big whoop. But what are you doing here?”

She froze, feeling the first bits of unease when her superior stepped into her office without knocking. “Lilah,” he said pleasantly.

Lilah took a deep breath and held out her hand. “Sir.”

Taking the seat across from her desk, be sat down, ignoring her hand. “You’ve finally figured out why this girl is so important to the future.”

“She’s the love of Angel’s life,” Lilah said, practically choking on the words.

“True enough,” her superior smiled. She couldn’t help but notice how his fingernails were perfectly filed, and how there was not a speck of dirt present anywhere on his body or clothes. “Rather romantic actually. Slayer and Vampire. Night and Day. Good and Evil.”

“It sounds sickening,” she bit out.

He chuckled. “I suppose one could see it that way.”

“What is she doing here?” Lilah asked.

“Does it really matter? The important thing is that she is here. And we can use that. We can use her.”

“What? Get them to sleep together? Kill her?”

“No. Goodness gracious, Ms. Morgan, do you have any idea how difficult it would be to try and kill a slayer? Think about the complications!” Her superior shook his head. “Besides, if we kill her, we’ll have Angelus out for revenge. No, we need to go slower. Go through the heart. Take her away from him but damage him as much as possible at the same time.”

“Then what do you propose we do?” Lilah said somewhat sarcastically.

He got up and shrugged. Moving to the door he said, “That’s up to you. Angel’s your responsibility. But my sources inform me that a slayer is sitting mournfully downtown right now. Alone.”

Lilah watched him leave her office and shut the door. Calmly, she picked up Buffy Summers’ file from her desk. With a scream she hurled it across the room. The folder hit the wall with a dull thump, papers and notes falling to the floor in an unwanted heap.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her phone. She paused for a moment before dialing a number. “Yeah, get me Demora… I don’t care if he’s busy! Tell him Lilah’s calling.” Tapping her foot impatiently, Lilah let out a long, suffering sigh. “Look. You get me your boss. And if you don’t, I’ll make sure that all that’s left of you come tomorrow is your hand still attached to this phone.” She smiled. “There. That’s much better.” She didn’t need to wait 30 seconds for the boss to come to the phone. “Demora? I need a drink. Something that will screw around with a persons head… make them think things that aren’t real.”

***

“Ice cream. Good. Me like ice cream,” Buffy mumbled morosely under her breath as she stirred her spoon around in her melting ice cream.

Vanilla ice cream. Buffy didn’t think that she was really in the mood for mint chip fudge cookie dough ice cream at the moment.

She was watching her spoon twirl around in the ice cream. The way the ice cream stuck to the edges of the white plastic was…. “Boring and stupid,” she sighed. She’s been sitting in the same place, at the same table, for nearly two hours… minus the trip she’d taken to get the ice cream.

She was beginning to think that she’d been moping for long enough. Besides, she wasn’t really angry anymore. Just confused… and, okay, she was still a little pissed, but she thought that she could go back there and ask Angel calmly and rationally what was going on.

Getting up, Buffy stretched leisurely. Letting out a yawn, she never saw the person who came and rammed into her. Reeling from the blow, Buffy stumbled and felt a warm liquid thrown on her arm. A chant was whispered too softly for her to hear. She looked up just in time to see a hooded figure disappear into the crowd. She figured that it wasn’t worth it to go after him. Probably just some idiot that had spilled his soda or something.

Frowning, Buffy looked at her arm. The liquid was clear, and smelled like roses. A noise caught her attention, and she looked at the table that she had just been sitting at. A container that was mostly empty of the liquid lay on its side. On the ground near the table there was a metal grate. The kind of grate that gets full of muck and twigs when it rains.

Buffy watched with wide eyes as the liquid dripped off the table and landed on the grate. The noise was soft, not loud at all, yet it throbbed like a never ending harmony in her mind.

Drip

Drip

***

Angel Investigations was quiet save for the two soft voices talking quietly in the corner. Angel was busy recounting his dream scene for scene, and Wesley was busy cross-referencing and writing down everything Angel said. Gunn had left, complaining of boredom an hour ago. Dawn had gone down the street to the gas station for candy.

“It represents what could be, and what isn’t,” Wesley recapped, voice muffled because of the pen sticking out of his mouth.

Angel nodded. “That’s what she said when I asked her about the baby.”

Wesley leaned back. “Why? It doesn’t make any sense… a vampire pregnant.” He shook his head. “It’s not possible.”

“Wesley, it was a dream,” Angel reminded, “it’s not real.”

“But you thought that it was prophetic…”

Angel closed his eyes. “It is,” he tapped his hand against his leg in concentration. “I know it is.”

“What happened last year with Darla? You don’t seem all that surprised that she’s pregnant.”

“She’s *not* pregnant,” Angel replied irritably.

“That she *appeared* pregnant,” Wesley amended.

Angel sighed. “I had sunk to a low place last year, Wes. It’s not something that I’m proud of. Things I did… things I thought… it’s not something I like to think about.”

“What happened?” Wesley pressed.

Angel looked away.

Wesley cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I realize that this is hard for you. But it might be important.”

“The dream wasn’t about Darla,” Angel cried, “it was about Buffy. I know it was about Buffy.”

“But Darla is the key.”

Angel stared at him for a second. “I slept with her,” he said at last. “I wanted to feel something… anything.”

Wesley shifted. “Oh.”

Angel sighed. “Please… don’t tell the others.”

“Does Buffy know?”

Angel nodded. “I told her everything.”

Wesley thought for a moment. “Angel… I realize that you’re not totally at fault. We… I… we should have been there for you.”

The vampire shook his head. “It’s in the past. It doesn’t matter now.”

“I don’t know… it sure helps to explain a lot.”

“What?”

“I think…” Wesley began slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order, “that it meant exactly that.” Angel gave him a confused look. “The baby… I think it represented what isn’t, but what could have been.”

“Could have been what?”

“A different world,” the ex-watcher mused. “Where things are different because of one little decision.”

“A decision not to sleep with Darla?” Angel asked doubtfully.

“No…” Wesley paused and thought. “No… more like your decision to stay with Buffy.”

“Oh,” Angel muttered. Suddenly, he burst out laughing.

Wesley gave him a shocked expression. “What could possibly be so funny about that?”

Angel clutched his sides, and tried to get a hold of himself. “I just imagined,” he burst into a fit of giggles again. “Another world,” he gasped out, “where I actually had feelings for Cordelia.” His laughter died out and he slumped down in his chair. “Now, I’m depressed.”

Wesley cracked a smile. “That is quite an amusing thought, is it not?”

“No, no… it’s not. It’s disturbing.”

Wesley raised his eyebrows. “That, too.”

Sudden laughter could be heard from the lobby of the Hyperion. Wesley and Angel got up and found Cordelia, Fred, and Dawn laughing happily.

“Where’s Buffy?” Angel demanded.

“Hi to you too,” Cordelia sniped.

“Where is she?” he demanded again.

Fred gestured down the street. “She ran away.”

“Like far away,” Cordelia added. “She was pissed. I guess that she’s so busy wallowing in her anger that she hasn’t come back yet.”

“Buffy’s out in LA. Wandering around! By herself?” Angel growled.

Three pairs of eyes regarded him with shocked expressions. “Angel,” Wesley broke in, “Buffy’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“Yeah, really,” Dawn said sarcastically, “it’s not like she’s slayed vampires before or anything. It’s just LA.”

Angel shook his head and nodded. “You’re right. She’s fine.” Then why did he feel like something was terribly wrong?

Cordelia gave him a worried look. “Hey, if she was in dire danger I’m sure the Power’s would send me a mind numbing vision.”

Angel held up his hand. “Shut up for a minute.”

“Hey!” Cordelia snapped.

“Shut up,” he hissed again, listening intently. He could hear a noise… faintly. A little popping…. Following his ears, he came and stood in front of Wesley’s desk. Water from the ceiling slid down and bounced off it.

Drip

Drip

The others gathered behind him. “We have piping problems,” Cordelia groused. “You interrupted me because we have piping problems???”

Angel watched the water bounce off the desk. A little bit of nausea formed in his stomach. “She’s getting further away from me,” he whispered.

“Angel? What? Stop looking at the water like that! It can’t be good,” Fred babbled.

Dawn came and stood next to him. She grabbed his hands. “What’s wrong, Angel?” she pleaded. “Who’s getting farther away?”

Angel turned and glanced at her. His gaze seemed haunted… farther away.

“Buffy.”

TBC

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